


Warzone Break Room

by Viddaric



Category: Iji (Video Game)
Genre: Demotivational Speech, Hot Drinks, Isn't it weird that you need the second most powerful weapon in the game to remain true pacifist?, Pacifist Iji
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 11:38:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11920095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viddaric/pseuds/Viddaric
Summary: Oneshot. Pacifist Iji finds Yuka's break room. Instead of opening fire, he decides to be diplomatic. Told from Yuka's prospective. Contains Yuka nerding out over Iji's nanogun, Iji trying a Hot Drink, and Yuka being bad at pep talks.





	Warzone Break Room

**Author's Note:**

> I’m taking a very slight deviation from canon here and assuming that Iji found the terminals explaining the history of the Tasen and Komato before confronting Yuka, whereas in the actual game, you were much more likely to run into Yuka first.

Bored. Bored bored bored bored bored. The entire reason I’m hiding out here is because I thought that boredom was a better alternative to certain death, but now I’m starting to question that choice.

Not that I’m likely to live to see the end of the day anyway, but still.

I chose this break room as my little hideout because we had essentially turned it into a supply closet after we took over this facility. Most of the weapons are gone, taken after the first warning of the Komato attack, but there are other, more important things here. The snack machines in the corner, for example. There are some crates scattered around, mostly empty ones that were unpacked after we arrived. I still don’t know why we kept them around, but I guess we had other, more important things to do than crate removal. There are a few plush seats as well, remnants of the old dwellers of this place. But these remind me once again of what I’d been trying fruitlessly to distract myself from: the fact that we’re all doomed.

I wonder how the Komato found us. I guess it’s kind of irrelevant now that they have; we’re not even fighting a fraction of their armies but we’re still getting slaughtered. I guess we can’t really claim the moral high ground here, but we just wanted to live!

Well, as long as I’m depressing myself, I might as well check the radio, see if I can figure out how the battle’s going. It’s something to do, if nothing else. I slump down on one of the seats and tune my headset to a random channel.

“…and she's heading into your sector.”

“Roger that team 5 leader. Alright troops, lock and load!”

Several voices respond with “Affirmative”. A few moments of quiet pass, and then some faint shots as a background on another voice “This is team 3, we have spotted the anomaly and have opened fire.”

“Sir, she's not stopping, she's coming straight for us! She… she jumped right over our defensive line!”

“I can see that! Don’t let her—dammit, she escaped into the vents!”

“We’ve got more important things to worry about! Incoming Komato troopers!”

“Switch to heavy weapons! Engage the-” The voice cuts off.

“Dammit! Team 3, retreat!”

I have nothing more to listen to here. I change the channel.

“...think we’ll make it out of this one alive?”

“I don’t know, but I… What was that?”

“It’s coming from the vents! Get ready!”

“It’s the Anomaly!”

“oh crap, she’s—”

I suddenly hear a different voice. Not a Tasen one, that’s for sure. Doesn’t sound like a Komato one either. It’s very faint, and I can just hear it in the background of the other two’s speech, and it just says “’m sorry.”

Then the *pchew* of a Resonance Detonator, and a couple shouts of pain, then thuds, then a moment of silence before one of the two voices groans, and the other speaks again.

“Oh man, that didn’t feel nice. Ugh, that’s gonna leave a mark tomorrow.”

“Yeah… I don’t think I broke anything though. What happened to the Anomaly?”

“I don’t see her… I think she’s long gone by now.”

“That’s fine with me; I’m not exactly in any condition to chase her.”

“Fair enough.”

I switch the channel again.

“…got 7 of ‘em.”

“That’s ‘cause you only went for the little ones. I got an elite and a commander, plus 3 soldiers.”

I realize that I’ve accidentally found a Komato radio frequency. Those cocky bastards aren’t even bothering with a secure channel!

“Are you saying that I-- what the fu-“

“The hell... is that the Anomaly?”

Two sounds of shocksplinter fire can be heard.

“Whoa!”

“Hit the deck!”

Two shocksplinter explosions, then a third, fainter explosion.

“Damn, are you OK?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. That damn Anomaly has a resonance reflector, and judging by the new hole in that wall, she’s got a rocket launcher too! Come on, we have to-”

I’ve heard all I need to hear. I switch the radio off and sigh. Nothing new there. We’re losing and losing hard. The news about the Anomaly is kind of surprising though. She has a nanogun and even got some heavy weapons for it, but she’s just running past everyone. I don’t think she’s even killed any Scouts, and they have about the resilience of a wet paper bag. What’s she even trying to do? We’re running out of time before the alpha strike… What could she be hoping to accomplish? Could she be trying to reach General Tor and convince him to stop the strike? But there’s no way—

My train of thought is suddenly interrupted by the distinct sound of a nearby teleport. I scramble for my discarded nanogun and turn around in the direction of the noise, bringing my weapon to bear… but not at the expected Komato berserker. Instead, I see her. The Anomaly.

She is slightly hunched over, and her face is obscured by her long brown hair. Her nanogun is in her hands, and her knuckles are white on its grips, but the rest of her is shaking in time with her breathing. Breathing that, now that I notice it, is coming in shallow, almost ragged gasps. All in all, she doesn’t exactly look like someone who could stop an alpha strike.

Suddenly, she speaks, pausing for breaths.

“Are you… going… to shoot me?”

The question makes me hesitate. It’s not like I hadn’t had the thought of shooting her. After all, this place is my one and only sanctuary from certain death, and now something has breached that sanctuary. Then again, she is much better armed and judging by how much fire it looks like she’s taken, most likely better armored than me, and being that her current killcount is exactly 1 and Krotera was a complete dickhead anyway, there’s a pretty good chance she’d be willing to live and let live. I think about my answer carefully.

“Well… I think that depends on whether you’re going to shoot me.”

She seems to be satisfied with this answer and she relaxes a bit. “I wasn’t planning… on it” she says, putting down her nanogun on one of the nearby crates. She walks over to one of the couches and falls face down onto it without ceremony. Then she mumbles something into one of the cushions

“What?” I say, not catching a word of the mumbled phrase

She turns over and mumbles again, but understandably this time “I said could you shut down that teleporter? It’d probably suck if someone else used it.”

“Oh crap!” how could I have been so stupid? She’d have had to use a stationary teleporter to get in here; the portable ones wouldn’t have worked on somewhere she hadn’t seen. And if she could use it, so could anyone else who found it…

I shove one of the empty crates aside and see the spot where she’d teleported in. Sure enough, the pronged ring that acts as a teleport exit is there and active. Who knows who put it there or why, but as long as it's active, it’s a major threat to my well being. I could crack it, but teleporters are designed to be incredibly difficult to get into; a cracked teleporter could cause all kinds of horrible malfunctions, and when you're working with people's bodies, you really don't want things to go wrong. So instead, I just take aim and pull the trigger.

The hammering of my machine gun drowns out all else. I don’t stop shooting until my gun runs out of bullets and needs to make more and the teleport exit has been reduced to bullet-riddled scrap metal.

“OK” I sigh “That should be safe now” I say, putting my nanogun down next to hers.

“Overkill much?” says the Anomaly, sitting up. “I was gonna try and sleep for a little bit, but I guess that plan is shot.”

“Sorry… I’m a bit high strung at the moment…” Then I think for a moment. “Hey… was that a joke? Because I literally shot it?”

She laughs then, just a little “it’s the middle of an alien invasion and you can still think about bad plays on words…”

“Hey, there’s no such thing as a situation too serious to make a joke in. It’s what keeps me going.”

“I guess I really could use something to laugh about right now…” she says. She flops back down on the couch, her head propped up on the armrest.

“So…” I say, after she volunteers no further explanation (as if one was needed) “I assume that your name isn’t actually Anomaly.”

“It’s Iji. What’s yours?”

“Yukabacera. But most people just call me Yuka.”

There is another pause. Then I think for a moment and say “Oh, there’s medical nanites in the locker over there if you need ‘em”

“Oh, really?” She slowly rises to her feet and walks to the medical locker. Opening it up, her expression turns to one of relief “Oh man, do I need these” she says, opening the nanite canister. Her nanofield practically buzzes with the new nanites as they go to work.

“Wow, that’s one powerful nanofield you’ve got there. Good efficiency, and judging by the fact that you’re still alive, really good armor too” I look at the nanogun rested on the crate “Can I take a look at your nanogun?”

“I guess there’s nothing better to do with it right now. Go for it” she says, making her way back to the couch and lying down on it once again.

I pick up the nanogun and sit down on one of the crates. I do a quick diagnostic crack and the results almost knock me off my impromptu chair.

“Damn lady, you’re set for war!” I exclaim.

“Yeah, I know” she responds, somewhat dismally.

“OK, according to my diagnostics, this nanogun is a loader… We haven’t used one of those in centuries, mostly because they're inefficient as hell if you need to outfit an entire army, but the ability to sustain fire indefinitely as long as you don’t run out of ammo is one that has been coveted by many Elites. AND it has an ammo generating system that makes… Shotgun shells? Oh wow, a shotgun. Another one we haven’t used in centuries. Collectors would kill to get their hands on this thing…”

“They’d kill me anyway!” She interrupts.

But I’m on a roll and I’m not stopping “Let’s see… you’ve got a resonance detonator, resonance reflector, machine gun… ooh, you got the Elite version instead of the soldier version! Nice. OK, a plasma gun, and a good one to boot, a rocket launcher, standard issue, a shocksplinter, also standard issue, an MPFB Devastator, damn that’s a lot of firepower, and… is this a Cyclic Fusion Ignition System?! I’ve never even seen one of these things in action, much less acquired one! Damn, I’m glad I didn’t try to take you on! I wouldn’t have stood a chance, even if I’d had a CFIS and enough medical nanites for 25! Whoever built this nanogun knew what they were doing.”

“No, they really didn’t. But they did it anyway.”

This gives me some pause. “Say again?”

“They didn’t know what they were doing. They were incredibly lucky to get a nanogun in the first place, and they had no idea how it worked. But they used all their skill and knowledge to try and make it powerful enough to plow through every Tasen who got in my way. But you know what they didn’t give it?”

“What?” I reply, somewhat nervously

“Someone who would actually use it”.

“Oh...” I consider this for a moment. “Well... I for one am glad they didn't.”

She looks up at me questioningly. “You know, you're kind of an odd Tasen. Most of your buddies seemed almost as war-hungry as the Komato, but you seem sensible.”

“Oh, I'm not a soldier at heart. I'm just a cracker, but that's been enough to save my life a few times. Plus get a few extra creds modifying weapons for the Elites” I think for a moment “Hey, what about Krotera? Didn't you kill him?”

“No, I was trying to reason with him. But he wouldn't listen...”

“That sounds like Krotera alright. So you had to fight him?”

“No, he... got taken out by someone else.”

“Really? Who?”

She hesitates “...If I told you, what would you do with the information?”

“Well, let me put it this way: Krotera was one of the biggest warmongering jackasses I've ever had to serve under. If Tasen like him weren't in charge, things might have gone better between us and the Komato, although honestly I doubt it.”

“It was Vateilika.”

“Ha! I should have known she'd find a use for that Devastator. I modded that for her, and I couldn't have come up with a better use for it myself!”

She says nothing in response. The resulting silence is palpably awkward. “...speaking of which...” I say, attempting to fill the void. “Do you want me to try and mod YOUR gun? I mean, it's not like there's much else to do at the moment, and... you never know what you might run into out there.”

She considers this for a moment. “Well... it's not like I was using it for anything but making doors in the first place... alright, go for it. Just don't mess with the resonance reflector, that's the only thing I really use.”

“Heh, don't worry about that. Even I don't have the moxie to screw with the programming of a weapon that's already so heavily modified. I don't even know what your scientist friends had to do to this thing to get it to accept as many weapons as it has already, so I'm not going to modify anything I don't have to. Mostly I just want a look at this CFIS...”

I set the gun back down on one of the crates and start tinkering. Hmmm... well, it's pretty well known what the CFIS does with its stream of hypercharged slugs, but what's not really known is the how, and looking at it now won't really get me that much closer. It'd take me weeks to really analyze this gun in full... but maybe I can find something interesting...

Iji slumps a bit in her makeshift lounge chair. “Man, I could really go for some *kaw-fee* right now. Or maybe just some *tee* or SOMETHING to keep me going. I mean, I would have preferred to just get some sleep, but it'd be the next best thing.”

“Sorry, could you repeat that? I think your translator's bugging out or something.”

She sits up “I said that I could really use some *kaw-fee* to keep me from falling asleep while running for my life.”

“Huh, that's the same word. I think that we don't have an equivalent word in our language. What's *kaw-fee*?” I ask, slurring oddly around the unfamiliar word.

This seems to shock her somewhat. “You really have a high-tech civilization without *kaw-fee*? How do you manage?”

“Well, what is it? Maybe we have an equivalent.”

“It's a hot drink that-”

“Oh, we have Hot Drinks” I interrupt. “Oh hey, that reminds me, I haven't had one in way too long, and that snack machine over there still works. You want one too?”

“At this point, I'll take anything warm and energizing. What kind of hot drinks are we talking about?”

“...kind?”

“...You know what, never mind. I'm already doing hundreds of things that could kill me today, so why not add poisoning to the list. Bring on your mysterious alien 'Hot Drink'.”

“Eh, don't worry. Hot Drinks weren't anything toxic to the biology of anything on Origin when we first left, and I don't think that things have changed THAT much. Besides, with a nanofield of your caliber, you'll be well protected.”

“...protected?”

I get two cans from the machine and toss one to her. “Don't knock it 'til you've tried it. If there's one thing that nearly every Tasen likes, it's Hot Drinks. Hell, the Komato like them too, but Tasen like them so much that our helmets are designed so that we can drink them without taking our armor off”. I utilize this function presently, taking a painfully delicious swig. “oooh, that's that's the stuff.”

She unseals her can; it's a similar mechanism to disposable nanite storage containers, airtight and heat-tight. In one case so that the nanites can potentially be preserved for centuries without being damaged or degraded by heat expansion and cold contraction, and in the other so that you can always count on your beverage being hot enough to be used as a rather potent weapon in a pinch (I've had to do that once. Terrible waste of a drink, but I didn't have much of a choice at the time). The only differences are the branding labels and the fact that Hot Drink cans have additional insulation to prevent them from melting.

Having opened her drink, Iji takes a quick whiff of it, and apparently learning nothing from what she smells, takes a somewhat cautious sip. Her eyes widen and she doubles over, coughing. “Oh damn, I should have warned you about that” I say, remembering the whole “humans usually don't have nanotechnology” thing. “The reason I said you'd be well protected is because you literally NEED to have a personal nanofield if you want to have a Hot Drink because if you don't have reactive armor, it'll burn right through your stomach lining. And even with armor, you'll also need a nanofield to repair the tissue damage immediately afterwards. Sooooo yeah, it kind of hurts if you're not used to it.”

The coughing fit goes on for several more [seconds], but eventually she chokes out “Ow... OK, *cough* when you get past the searing pain eating you *cough* from the inside out, I'll admit, that is pretty good.”

“Well, I'm glad that it has your approval. You know, you're the first human to ever have one... and probably the only human who could survive having one. You should feel privileged”

“Pardon me for not prop-*cough* properly appreciating it through the burning sensations” she replies. Between the translator and the coughing fit, it's hard to tell whether or not she's being sarcastic, but I decide to give her the benefit of the doubt.

“Consider yourself pardoned”. I suppose that could be taken sarcastically as well.

She clears her throat and sets down her can. “You know, I found a logbook saying that a Hot Drink isn't hot enough unless it feels like getting hit in the face with a plasma cannon, but I didn't think that it was serious. I've actually been hit with a plasma cannon, and the resemblance is uncanny. Except that a plasma cannon is nice enough to stay OUTSIDE your body and only melt your skin instead of your internal organs.”

“But it's oh so worth it for the flavor, isn't it?”

She picks up her can again and takes an even-more-cautious sip than before. She winces and gives a muffled sound of pain, but keeps the cough under control. “Yes. Yes it is. The whole 'hot enough to melt steel' thing somehow contributes to the flavor, right?”

“Obviously. The Tasen may be masochistic enough to defy the Komato army, but even we wouldn't willingly ingest lethally hot liquid if we could get flavor just as good from merely scalding hot. Hot Drink based research is second only to military research in terms of Tasen and Komato science and we still haven't figured out a way to get that kind of taste without the heat.”

“Wait, seriously? Hot Drink research?”

“No, not really, that was a joke. I have no idea what our statistics on that are. Although honestly I wouldn't be surprised if it was true, given how hard is is to make them. When I was still in school, I tried to write a report on the Hot Drink recipe and how it works and why the heat is necessary to maintain the deliciousness, but in the end I decided that quantum computing was a simpler and easier to understand subject. I was never good at chemistry though, so take that as you will.”

She gives me an odd look. It's hard to read, but it seems to be halfway between perplexed and amused. She keeps that expression for a few [seconds], then simply concludes by saying “Aliens are weird” and shifting back to lying down.

“Hey, takes one to know one, lady” I say, somewhat indignantly, before going back to tinkering.

Silence reigns for a while, punctuated only by the slight buzzing and beeping of my work and the occasional sip. Iji finally breaks it with a question.

“Do you think I have a chance?”

I consider this. “I assume you mean a chance of stopping Origin from getting Alpha Struck again. Do you want the short and hopeful final analysis, or do you want the full picture?”

“Let’s hear the hopeful one first, then the other one” she replies.

“OK, short answer, yes, I do think that you have a chance of stopping the strike.”

“And the long answer?”

“I never said it was a good chance. You’ve still got a lot standing between you and General Tor. You’re bound to run into plenty of Komato patrols, as well as what few Tasen squads are left. To make matters worse, because Tor decided to come in person this time, Iosa The Invincible is bound to be here too. I’d be willing to bet that she’s actively hunting you down, and I DON’T think that you have a chance of getting away from her like you have with the other soldiers, and even less of a chance convincing her to talk things over instead of just trying to kill you. Even if you DO get to Tor, there’s no guarantee he’ll listen to you. He was more willing than most of the Komato to be diplomatic with Hel Sarie, but he was also the one to pull the trigger on her when things went sour. And even if you convince Tor, the Komato might still want to launch the Strike anyway to make absolutely sure that the Tasen race is well and truly gone; Tor has a lot of respect, but he’s not the only one with a say in the matter, and the Komato have not been shy about planetary annihilation before.”

She looks up “But there’s still a chance?”

“Yeah, I think there is" I say, and I'm a little surprised to find that I mean it. "You’ve come this far, haven’t you? Why stop now?”

“I guess I’ll have to take this all the way, then” she says. And right before she lies back down, I see something change in her. It’s subtle, barely noticeable, but she looks less… defeated somehow. There’s a glint in her eyes and perhaps the ghost of a smile, both of which were definitely lacking before. I suddenly wonder if what I just said will change the course of history.

“Well, pep talks have never been my specialty” I add. I stand up and walk over to her, and she sits up as I approach. “but what I CAN help you with is this”. I hand her her nanogun. The final touches on my crack had just finished compiling as I was giving my (de)motivational speech, and I’m almost reluctant to just give it away; some of my best (if rushed) work went into the mod I just made, and I wish I had more time to perfect it, but she would undoubtedly do better with it than me and we’re on a literal deadline.

“What did you do with it?” she asks, looking the gun over.

“Modified your CFIS. It’s not like you were using it anyway. That thing is a nasty piece of work; it absolutely shreds through nanofields by putting tons of firepower into an almost monomolecular point of focus. However, if you widen that focus and add the explosive power contained within Devastator charges, you get… something. I honestly don’t know what to call it, but it’s basically one big annihilating shaft of metal traveling at hypersonic speeds and with barely enough room between the shots to atomize the target instead of just slamming into it. Basically it’s like getting hit with several hundred CFIS’s at once”

“...and what the hell do you expect me to actually do with that? You know as well as I do that I don’t want to kill anyone.”

“You said it yourself, didn’t you? It’s great for making doors. Now granted, you probably won’t be able to pierce a shield door with it because they’re specially protected against that kind of thing, but I bet that you could blow one of those blast doors down. And if you just want to make a hole in the wall, this will do the job VERY well. Plus… you never know what you might run into. If you ever DO have to scuffle with someone, this will make short work of pretty much anything.”

“I’ll keep that in mind” she says, now handling the gun much more gingerly. “I should probably get going. Tor isn’t going to wait forever, after all.”

“Yeah… I wish I could do more, but I get the sense that someone of my caliber can’t do much more than get killed out there.”

“Hey, you did more for me than any other alien I’ve met today.”

“True. I’ll get the door open for you.”

After a slight struggle to un-crack my makeshift door lock (note to self: if you live to see the end of the day, update your homemade code, these old programs are unwieldy as hell), the door opens, and Iji hefts her gun and starts walking out.

“Good luck” I say.

“Thanks, I’ll need it” she replies, before resuming her trek to sector X. I watch her as she goes, thinking. Can she make it? Did what I said really help her? Would I be able to stand up to Tor if I was in her shoes? What does her mysterious *kaw-fee* taste like? Suddenly I remember that there’s one more little thing I can do to help her out.

“Hey, hold up a cycle!” I say, then duck back into the breakroom. I come back out holding a fresh Hot Drink. “Here, catch” I say, throwing the can to her. “One for the road. And don’t forget about the CFIS!”

She catches the can, considers it briefly, puts it in a pocket, and says “I’ll use it well”, before finally walking off, turning a corner and leaving my sight. I suddenly wonder whether she means the CFIS or the Drink.

I get the door sealed again and lie down on the couch that Iji had been using. Now all I can do is think and wait. Think about history and technology, about the past and the future, about civilizations and individuals. And wait for either a triumphant return or a swift vaporization.

...Maybe I should try and get that old translator to work properly...

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first published fanfic. I welcome any and all critiques, complements, insults, and threats to my life.


End file.
